Recap
by Drumboy100
Summary: Nancy recaps her latest mystery to Frank. Frank has other ideas of where he wants this conversation to end. Complete
1. Chapter 1

"Frank!" Nancy found herself running like a little girl across the parking lot, grinning idiotically from ear to ear. Frank turned around and appeared pleased that he had this effect, opening his arms and letting her come to him. He let out an "ooof" as he absorbed her momentum, and she squeezed tightly, giggling, holding on a moment longer than necessary.

"Come on," she said abruptly, pulling him into their diner. "I can't wait to tell you all about my latest case!" she said breathlessly as the waitress showed them their booth. "And then we have to think of a name for it."

Frank was staring distractedly at her face, and a flicker of a more intense emotion passed across his features. "I'd love to hear all about it, Nancy," he replied. "But I don't plan on staying here as long as I usually do."

Nancy's disappointment was obvious, and she said wistfully, "Oh…I'll have to give the abridged version, then." But she clapped her hands excitedly, a girlish gesture that Frank always waited for fondly. "Well, it all started when I visited a friend of mine in Pennsylvania. She moved out there a couple of years ago with her folks and I never really heard too much from her until suddenly she wanted me to come for a week."

"That was just like my and Joe's recent case—she was the daughter of a scientist, but she turned out to be evil, and Joe's heart was broken. What happened when you got out there?" Frank asked.

"She thought the place was haunted," Nancy revealed. "They were terrified, but knew that the police wouldn't believe them. Clara apologized so much when I got out there, but I told her I knew exactly what to do," Nancy said smugly.

"Held a séance?" Frank asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"No—the first night I was there, I knew that I had to find a way to draw out the ghosts. So I put on a sheet and waved two flashlights, and walked around their mansion making low moaning noises, to dare my ghost counterpart to reveal himself."

Frank felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. "Anyone would have done as much," he said.

"No—it was my idea!" Nancy shot daggers at him. She grabbed a cheese fry as the waitress set their usual order in front of them. "Anyway, hours went by and I have to admit that I started to feel a little foolish. But then suddenly my flashlight landed on an old painting on the wall with the corner dog-eared and I thought, how could Clara's family ruin such an expensive masterpiece? But just as I leaned in for a closer look, I was grabbed from behind with a gun at my back!"

Frank's mouth hardened into a straight line.

"I knew that if I could get this person talking, I could stall for time," Nancy said. "So I started asking who they were and why they were doing this. They started to give me some basic explanations, but unfortunately stopped short of giving me their name. They were disguising their voice with an old scarf but fortunately the scarf got a hole in it so I could recognize the voice of the maid. I threatened to tell her employers about this incident and she bopped me out cold! I woke up the next morning bound and gagged in the basement."

Frank arched an eyebrow. "And called the police?"

Nancy dismissed that comment with a wave of her hand. "Clara had a pet mouse in the basement, so I crawled over to the cage and put my ropes in the feed dish and confused the mouse into gnawing off my ropes. I raced upstairs to see the painting but it was gone, and the maid had resigned and left along with all her possessions!"

Frank nodded as if he had expected this. He reached across the table and gripped her hand in reassurance.

Nancy sighed. "Clara's family was happy to be rid of their "ghost," and said that the painting was a small price to pay, but I wanted justice, and questions answered. Why wouldn't the maid have just stolen that painting a long time ago?

"But there was nothing more to be done so we all went to the carnival. While Clara and I were on the ferris wheel I looked out over the fairgrounds and saw the maid! She had the painting and she was doing some kind of deal with someone in a tent. We were stuck at the top and her parents couldn't hear us, so I climbed out and had to grab the different spokes on the way down. The ferris wheel started moving again, which made it especially difficult, but I was determined."

"Were you in heels?" Frank asked knowingly.

"I can't remember what happened to my flats," Nancy said thoughtfully. "Fortunately I realized that one of the banners was right next to the ferris wheel, so I took off my outer sweater and could just barely make the jump. I ziplined from the banner right next to the tent, and tackled the maid from above and arrested her on the spot."

Frank shook his head in amazement. "She explained everything to you before the police got there?"

"Of course. The tent was the meetup spot for smugglers in the black market, who had known that a valuable article had mistakenly been sold to Clara's family. That's why one of the smugglers got a job as their maid, and terrorized them with "hauntings" in the hopes that they would leave the house for a while and leave the maid an opportunity to look through their things. They didn't know where the article was in the house, but they figured it out when I shined my flashlight on the dog-eared painting. She peeled the painting back when the police got there. The painting was actually worthless, but behind it was an original dinner menu from the night the Titanic sank!" Nancy leaned back in satisfaction.

"Wow," Frank said admiringly. "Did anyone pay you anything?"

"Frank, you know I don't charge anything for sleuthing," she chided. "Clara's family offered me the menu as a reward, but I made sure that it took its rightful place in a museum."

"That's my girl!" Frank smiled radiantly, giving Nancy's hand a squeeze. Nancy flushed with pleasure at the compliment, especially from another detective and a good friend. But she couldn't help but notice that his hand hadn't budged from his place on hers, and seemed to have no intention to.

A moment of silence passed. Usually, Frank processed each case in detail with her after her recap, praising various clues she had picked up on and actions she had taken, but now he was simply looking at her. Nancy's blush deepened and her eye contact faltered, but his remained steady and consistent.

"Nancy…Nancy, look at me." She forced herself to meet his piercing gaze. "You and Ned need to have a talk, sweetheart," he said with infinite gentleness.

Nancy's features went slack with shock, and she heard blood rush past her ears. The room spun a little bit, like it did when a moment seemed impossibly surreal. "What?" she sputtered, and resented him for speaking like this.

"Yes, we are going to talk about it out loud this time," Frank said, reading her mind. She shook her head in embarrassment.

"Frank, you…you're one of my best friends," she said numbly.

Frank stiffened. "How long, Nancy," he replied flatly. "How much longer do you want to just be friends?"

"I'm with Ned!" Tears filled Nancy's eyes and she gazed out the window, into the pouring sleet of rain that matched her new mood. "He would be so hurt, so upset…"

"And you hurt him more with every day that he gets more attached to you." Frank saw her flinch, and pressed on despite her pain. "He's an impartial observer, someone you call during a case to clear your head. You don't call me because you know I'll give you a hint when you'd rather figure it out for yourself, or, even more likely, because I'll know exactly how much danger you're in and I might come get you."

Nancy stifled a grin. She hadn't even acknowledged her reasons to herself, but he was right.

"But after each case, Nan…" Frank tipped her chin back to face him. "Here you are with me."

She frowned at him, thoughtful, subdued. She'd been hoping that things would stay the same forever, with a long-distance boyfriend to prevent her from more serious commitments, and Frank's willingness to remain available whenever she needed him. She had never allowed even her thoughts to turn astray from Ned, putting an act on for herself as well as everyone else. She envisioned faithful Ned, always busy with school but making himself free when she called, asking amateur questions in an innocent attempt to help with her work.

Then Nancy turned to Frank, puzzled. "I'm exhausted," she said in surprise.

Frank laughed merrily. "From the case, your plane ride home yesterday, or this conversation?" he teased.

Nancy sighed. "You know which," she said with a trace of a pout.

Frank pushed her hand sideways on the diner table and ran his hand lengthwise around hers, finally gripping her lightly around her thumb. "Nancy," he said softly, "You have no trouble interfering in other people's lives. You have an exact sense of justice, you can't leave questions unanswered, you'll advocate night and day for the wrongly accused. It's time to force yourself to face some facts and clues in your own life, and advocate for yourself this time, and for the innocent man that could be meeting someone else at his school." Frank stood up and took the check.

"Frank—" Nancy gripped his arm frantically. She knew that if he left, then she would have to take some kind of action, not discuss things theoretically.

He came around to her side and put a hand on her shoulder, reassuring and firm at the same time. "You need to drive over and talk to him tonight, dear. I will be with you to pick up the pieces afterward, and so will Bess and George."

"Tonight? He's—he's got finals in three weeks, I can't upset him now." She shivered.

Frank met her gaze solemnly. "It has to be tonight, love." He kissed her forehead and shrugged into his jacket. "Give Nickerson some credit—he's tougher than you think."

Nancy sat still. She knew that he was serious. Frank Hardy was gentle, but there was nothing weak about him. The night of their first relationship conversation would also be the night of her last chance. But she did her best thinking when backed into a corner. She felt her shoulders tighten, and she sat up a little straighter. A hard knot of nervous resolution began to form in the pit of her stomach. "I love you, Frank," she said suddenly.

Frank whirled around, stunned. "Okay," she said to him. "I'll do it."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I've never read a Hardy Boys book, but I relied on two websites, the Hardy Boys Drinking Game ( tv_drinking_ ) and the more hilarious paragraphs of their Wikipedia entry ( wiki/The_Hardy_Boys). Check them out for a laugh!

ndndnd

Nancy hiccupped, feeling that sudden shudder that always arrived a few minutes after a hard crying session. She was glad that the drive home was on a straight-and-narrow highway, mostly deserted now that it was past three a.m. She put the cruise control on and blasted Celine Dion to make it all that much easier to wallow in her post-breakup misery. There was a half-pint of Rocky Road still in the freezer that she knew would work wonders tomorrow.

Ned had had a wounded, grieving look on his face, the "What did I do?" question imprinted all over it, exactly what Nancy had been dreading to see. It had taken several faltered beginnings until Ned finally coaxed the conversation out of her, and Nancy had been all that more disgusted with herself that _he_ had had to be the one comforting _her_.

Nevertheless, it had gone better than she had expected; Ned had listened quietly, asking questions while knowing her decision could not be reversed, and after a lot of long and painful silences had moved on to questioning her about rules and boundaries from now on. Would she still call him about sleuthing cases? Was he still invited over for Thanksgiving weekend? These questions gave a permanency to the situation, an 'end of an era' that brought on a fresh round of tears. Nancy wasn't sure whether she was upset because he had been upset, or because she had wanted him to be even more upset.

Nancy felt her cell phone vibrate in her pocket, and rolled her eyes as she silenced Celine. "Come on, Dad, I'm eighteen," she muttered, and pressed the speakerphone on.

"Nancy—it's Joe," a familiar voice said urgently. "You have to come to the Bayport hospital. Frank's been injured."

"_What?_" Nancy got a quick reminder of why to never phone and drive at the same time, swerving onto the shoulder and slamming on the breaks. "What happened?" she asked, her heart pounding, her hands suddenly becoming slippery with sweat.

"I'll tell you when you get here. He might be fine, if there's no permanent damage. Sorry to do this to you, but he's been mumbling your name over and over again."

"See you there." Nancy peeled out and spent the next hour and fifteen minutes distracting herself with a game called How Many Traffic Violations Have I Committed? If speeding throughout only counted as one, then at least she was still in the single digits by the time she skidded into the hospital's nearest parking spot.

She almost forgot to shut her car door before sprinting to the ICU and repeatedly pressing the "Call Nurse" button like an ADHD kid in an elevator. "Come on, come on, incompetency," Nancy muttered, glancing at her watch.

A suspicious-looking hag gingerly opened the door like she was afraid of a fire on its opposite side. "Past visiting hours, ma'am," she said curtly.

"Yes, but this might be my only chance to—"

"If your loved one is in the ICU, then they must need to rest." For this woman, trauma was a routine part of the everyday experience.

Nancy wasted no more breath and saw her list of options scroll before her eyes. The call button wire appeared to be connected to the door locking mechanism, and if she cut that, there were at least two good hiding spots over the woman's shoulder. Or, once she found out Frank's room number, her grappling hook and rope might not be seen on the outside wall of the hospital if she threw rocks at the light bulbs in the parking lot and sprayed most of her can of fake fog.

Joe came up behind her. "Thank you, Nurse Ratchett, we'll wait until visiting hours, if you're unable to notify us before then when he wakes up. Come on, Nancy," Joe said pleasantly, with a strong hint of warning in his voice as he put a brotherly arm around her and steered her firmly to the empty waiting room. A thought came to Nancy unbidden that Joe really could be her brother in the fullness of time, and the thought made her blush before the next round of anxiety.

"Joe, if this is my last chance—"

Joe shook his head impatiently. "Frank's been through worse. I just thought you should be here right when he wakes up. Why is he saying your name now, in the middle of our case? Usually he's got a one-track mind."

Nancy willed her blood to return to a slower and more consistent pace through her circulatory system.

At her silence, Joe's face exploded into a smile. "No kidding!" he said with genuine happiness. "You two finally had your talk?"

"You should be talking right now, not me," Nancy snapped, although secretly pleased.

Joe narrowed his eyes in a we'll-talk-later expression, but took her bait. "Well, this case all started when Frank and I were sitting around the breakfast table, discussing our father's latest case. Aunt Gertrude had just reamed us a new one for not immediately putting our clean laundry away, and our mom was making us sandwiches to take for the day. Come to think of it, I've never seen my mom do anything _but_ make sandwiches…and I could have sworn there was one day last summer when she went outside to make sandwiches and didn't come back for three weeks…"

"Joe," Nancy prompted impatiently, although she had wondered herself what Mrs. Hardy did all day.

"So our dad was telling us about this new case of smugglers trying to get their hands on a top-secret microfilm at the military base just outside of the city. It's incredible, Nancy. Never were so many assorted felonies committed in a simple American small town. Over the years Frank and I have discovered and prevented murder, drug peddling, race horse kidnapping, diamond smuggling, medical malpractice, big-time auto theft, espionage, and the hijacking of strategic materials."

"Sounds like a great place to raise your kids," Nancy said, and felt a fresh wave of pain.

"Well, even though my dad was the best in his field at the NYPD"—Joe accented each letter and swelled with pride—"he tends to be forgetful. Sometimes he only tells us enough about each case to mislead us into mortal danger, but it's probably because he knows that we will come out victorious anyway. Well, my dad forgot to set up guards at the military base for that night, but he knew that Frank and I could do as good of a job, so he let us loose in there and gave us access to all kinds of top-secret and experimental technology."

Nancy was starting to get bored. Most of the Hardy Boys' mysteries started out similar to this.

"Then Chet wandered in at mealtime, followed by this gorgeous, petite young blonde. As Chet polished off breakfast and the leftovers from the fridge, she tearfully told us her story of her missing parent, who had been a prominent scientist. I wanted to respect Chet, but I was totally smitten. Before I knew it, I'd invited Chet and Malindaleebeth to come with us to guard the citadel that night. I said that maybe we could use our top-secret access to research what had happened to her dad."

"Hmmm," Nancy said.

"So promptly at 7:00, after Frank's dinner with you, Mom kissed us goodbye and Dad gave us the keys, fake passports, and the usual unlimited credit cards. We all split up to guard a different corner of the military base, so in case anyone tried any funny business, someone would see it and we could attack one at a time. Frank knows JavaScript as well as Klingon, but it still took him a few tries to hack into the 'even more top secret' parts of the security system."

Nancy could detect Joe's slight eye roll at this.

"I soon heard Frank whisper urgently to me over the walkie talkie that Malindaleebeth was actually the daughter of the leading smuggler after the microfilm! I raced to meet up with Chet, and sure enough, I took him with me and we both saw Malindaleebeth unscrewing the microfilm from its glass case within the deepest chasm of the military base. She must have done quite a dance through all the moving sensors. I was going to sneak up behind her with chloroform, but then—"

"Chet burped," Nancy finished for him.

Joe seemed to sulk a little. "Hey, he's good to have around in a sleuthing pinch," he protested. "Malindaleebeth whirled around and looked at us all nasty-like. 'My name is actually Jane,' she sneered, 'and I never cared about either of you.'"

Nancy put a comforting hand on Joe's shoulder.

Joe continued. "Well, the fake name I should have been able to figure out, but it really stung to find out she didn't care. Nevertheless I grabbed a lamp and threw it at her. She ducked and said something into her Blackberry. From the outside, a large saw-like machine carved a circular hole in the ceiling."

"I hope you jumped on the bottom rung of the ladder that came down, and went with her?" Nancy asked.

"I was about to, but the ladder never appeared. She climbed into a military cannon and blasted herself through the hole in the roof and into a waiting helicopter. Then I heard muffled cries from behind me. Chet was being kidnapped! The door to a secret passage was rapidly closing, so I stuck my foot in it, but I only ended up losing the tip of one of my best Reeboks. By then Chet and _Jane"_—Joe wiped a tear away—"were long gone, and I realized Frank was totally by himself. I'm terrified at leaving people alone in those situations because whenever we leave our father alone for a little while, we typically later find him emaciated, dehydrated, semi-conscious, and delirious, and have to succor him back to reality with candy bars and water, carting him through tunnels in a double fireman's carry."

"Sounds terrifying," Nancy said supportively, although at this point in the story she was experiencing her own terror. She looked down at her hands, which were shaking as they gripped each other.

"At first I couldn't find Frank in the top-secret location I'd left him, so I searched the closets. At last I found him in the last broom cabinet on the left, jammed in the bottom drawer. He had been knocked unconscious. There was a bootprint upside his head."

Nancy's eyebrows creased with worry.

"Nancy, I did CPR, the Heimlich, doused his head in toilet water, gave him a few slaps, threw him down the stairs, pressed all pressure points at once, and opened his eyes forcibly with spaghetti tongs, but when he still didn't come to, I grudgingly called an ambulance. I had to walk back home dragging him so they wouldn't find me coming out of the military base. They asked what happened and I said that Frank must have been mugged while I was taking a leak in the side bushes. Aunt Gertrude heard that through the upstairs window, ran outside, and reamed me another new one." Joe groaned and held his head in his hands.

Nancy waited for more, and then felt her lungs stop working. "So that's _it_?" she gasped. "That's where we are right now? The microfilm gone to smugglers, Frank unconscious, and Chet kidnapped?"

"At least my dad isn't kidnapped," Joe muttered defensively.

"Of course not—he used to be in the NYPD," Nancy snapped, standing up. "I can't take this—"

Nurse Ratchett swung the door open abruptly, a cigarette dangling hands-free between her lips. "Just in time," she said out of each corner of her mouth. "He's awake, and visiting hours have begun."

Nancy thought briefly how lucky the hospital was to be saving hundreds of dollars in repairs, as she would have reverted to either Plan A or Plan B if this Plan C had not cropped up. "Thank you, ma'am," she said with an efficient nod, Nurse Ratchett's beehive flapping in the wind from the speed at which Nancy and Joe ran past. Joe could have sworn he saw a couple of bees chasing them down the hallway.

"Oh, my darling," Nancy breathed, forcing herself to grab only Frank's hand, although she wanted to throw her face in the crook of his neck, squeezing him tightly in their newfound feelings for one another. "Nancy," Frank groaned, his eyes having difficulty focusing. He twitched nervously on the hospital bed, his mind far away as Nancy gently helped him sit up. "Nancy," Frank said again, holding his head and wincing.

Joe tried not to appear jealous that now Frank was uttering a woman's name after waking up from head trauma, when it had always been Joe's name.

"Nancy…" Frank tried a third time.

"I'm here, sweetie!" Nancy said vehemently. "I will not leave you again."

Frank opened his eyes fully and let his eyes rest on Nancy's face. "Nancy Drew…" He blinked rapidly five times. "…is the enemy."

Joe and Nancy gaped at him in shock. Joe was the first to recover. "Oh, no," he moaned. "Frank's been hypnotized."

A steely determination had settled on Nancy, and she squared her shoulders and lifted her head, taking out her all-purpose weapon/explosive/magnifying glass/rope/scissors/wooden spoon/pen. For a moment, Joe was more afraid of the look in Nancy's eyes than the situation they were in. "I know who did this, Joe," she said quietly. "Protect your brother. I'm going out."


	3. Chapter 3

Just as Nancy was about to leave, however, Nurse Ratchett walked in and briskly shut the door. "So, how is he doing?" she asked with a too-wide smile.

"Better yet, how are _you_ doing?" Nancy sneered, and then felt sheepish. That hadn't made any sense.

A flicker of uncertainty crossed the nurse's face, and then disappeared. "Fine, thank you. Has he, uh…communicated to you?" Ratchett covered her mouth with her hands, and the sound emitted was half-cough, half-guffaw.

Nancy's mouth tightened. "You should know exactly what happened, Jan," she responded confidently. "You orchestrated this whole thing."

"Yes, of course," Ratchett retorted without batting an eyelash. "I let you in a few minutes ago."

"No, not that. You are behind all of this—you stole the microfilm for your smuggling ring, just like you _tried_ to steal the Titanic menu!" Nancy accused, jabbing her finger in the nurse's general direction.

"I did not," Jan responded, and winced. She should have said, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you did. See, normally Joe falls in love with women who have a missing father scientist. But when 'Malindaleebeth'"—Nancy did exaggerated air quotes—"asked for help to find her missing _parent_, it opened up all kinds of possibilities. By the way, it must be handy to have an on-call plastic surgeon on staff."

Jan looked peeved, but decided to admit everything, since she figured that these three would be dead soon anyway. "How did you know?" she asked.

"The maid's name was Jan, and then your daughter's name is Jane. It was just too much of a coincidence."

Jan blinked. "What? That's it?"

"And also because there are absolutely no visiting hours posted for the ICU on the hospital floors, websites, or staff lounges," Nancy finished. "So why would a nurse withhold loved ones from a wounded man? This was the only possible explanation."

Jan nodded thoughtfully. "One final question."

"Anything," Nancy said proudly.

"Why would you choose to confront me from an enclosed space, with no witnesses, when I am blocking access to your only exit?"

Pause.

Joe grabbed a bedpan and lobbed it at Jan's face. Jan took a baseball swing with Frank's IV and sent the bedpan clattering to the far corner. "Home run," she said.

Nancy squealed, looking at Frank in panic, but knew that she could not let Jan know how precious Frank was to her. Fortunately, Frank's IVs stayed in. He mostly looked confused.

Meanwhile, Joe threw a book, medication, the lunch tray, and a vase of flowers at Jan, but she ducked effortlessly. "Say goodbye," she said with a malicious smile, approaching Frank with a scalpel.

"No, _she's_ the enemy, ma'am," Frank said politely, pointing to his girlfriend.

"Exactly—finish her off, dear," Jan said pleasantly, handing him the scalpel.

A monsoon of indignation crashed over Nancy, and she did a quick roundhouse kick, sending the scalpel flying out of Jan's hands. "You will _not_ pit him against me," Nancy growled venomously.

"Oh, so it's him you care about?" Jan asked innocently. She grabbed a needle and raised it above her head like a dagger.

Nancy executed swift evasive maneuvers, pushing and pulling Frank's stretcher to stay one step ahead of Jan. Joe tried to sneak around to the back. Jan pushed Joe in the closet and locked it, ignoring his protests.

"You and me now, Ms. Drew," Jan hissing, taking another step forward. She frothed at the mouth. "Maybe I'll keep your boyfriend around. He is on my side, after all."

Anger blinded Nancy momentarily. "Face me yourself, Witch," she snapped.

Jan shrugged. "Very well." She uncapped seven hypodermic needles and threw them at Nancy at the same time.

Nancy saw them approaching in slow motion and jumped backwards out of the open window, shooting her all-purpose weapon/explosive/magnifying glass/rope/scissors/wooden spoon/pen, which, fortunately for her, was on the rope setting. The rope and tiny grappling hook sailed back into the hospital room and snagged on the radiator. Nancy let out an "oof" as she jerked to a sudden stop and swung back toward the side of the hospital building, her heels clicking upon impact.

"Isn't this a nice turn of events," Jan said smugly, leaning her head out the window. "Hey, thanks for the props, love!" she called to Joe, picking up the assorted items that he had thrown at her. "A book…" she chucked it down at Nancy, who walked across the wall and away from it. Jan took her time retrieving the scalpel, and made a small cut in Nancy's rope. "Come get your meds, little girl!" she cackled, and opened the bottle directly above Nancy. Nancy swallowed one by accident. Jan made another cut.

"A bedpan…too bad it's not used…" Nancy flicked it aside with a hand, but winced, as it had banged two fingers on the way down. One more cut of the rope. "What's for lunch?" Jan asked, and poured nasty pea soup on Nancy's head before making a fourth swipe on the rope with her scalpel. Nancy saw the frayed ends of the rope beginning to unravel, and knew that she was too heavy to be supported much longer. "And, my personal favorite…some roses. Just what I myself will be buying him shortly." Jan dumped out the roses triumphantly, and Nancy caught two in her teeth.

"I'll take that, thanks." Nancy's heart skipped two beats at this beloved voice that she heard behind Jan's head, followed by a terrific crash as Frank cracked the vase against Jan's skull. Jan shouted, holding her bleeding head, and Nancy pulled one rose out of her teeth by the flower head, flinging it upward at Jan. The thorns made contact, sinking into already bruised flesh. Jan yelled and tried to disentangle it, causing the thorn pricks to bleed more.

With the fighting moving away from the window, Nancy ignored her racing heart and gingerly climbed back up, entering the room just in time to see Jan's unconscious figure slowly rotating beneath the light fixture. Frank had overpowered her, knocking her out and handcuffing her back belt loops to the overhead light. He held the microfilm in his right hand.

For once, Nancy didn't care about the perpetrator. Or the motive. Or the evidence, or witnesses, or what secret conspiratorial group they belonged to. She was struck dumb by the sight of the man she loved, and wondered why her legs and knees could no longer support their weight.

Frank gazed at her, his eyes openly appraising her from top to bottom. "And she does it all with a rose in her mouth," he said, his eyes crinkling fondly.

Nancy remembered, and handed it to him with a shy smile. "My lips have better things to hold onto now," she said, and melted into Frank's arms. She felt him sigh, and noticed how perfectly snugly they fit together.

"I realized you couldn't have been the enemy." Frank nuzzled her soup-drenched hair. "My lifetime of good memories overpowered my few hours of brainwashing last night."

Nancy squeezed him tighter. "Oh, you flatter me," she said.

Frank pulled her away, holding her by the elbows. He kissed her two bruised fingers, searching her face intently. "You told Ned."

"Yes," Nancy said with a gentle, relieved smile. "I thought I would need some Rocky Road this morning, but now I know what I really need."

"So we're really…after all these years…" Frank trailed off.

Nancy frowned good-humoredly. "Are you thinking that the chase might have been more fun than the catch?"

Frank squinted, and a corner of his mouth lifted. "Not at all. But please, prove that statement wrong anyway." He leaned in and delivered their first long, maddening kiss.

"I thought of a name for this case," Frank said, smiling.

"What?" she asked, amused.

"The Mystery of Why We Didn't Do This a Long Time Ago."

"_Guys_!" Frank and Nancy whirled toward the closet, and Nancy quickly rushed to unlock the door. Joe walked out, just in time to be utterly useless to anyone but still ruin the romantic ending. "I almost got her," he sulked. Then he looked a little closer at his brother and his friend. "Hey, have you guys been kissing?" he asked suspiciously.

Frank wiped away the glow-in-the-dark lipstick. "No," he said.

"Oh." Joe looked slightly disappointed. "Because maybe…well, maybe if Malindaleebeth was just brainwashed by her mother then the four of us could, you know—"

"No," Frank and Nancy said at the same time. "You have to find her and put her in jail, too, Joe," Nancy said impatiently. "And hey—we forgot about Chet!"

"What about me?" a muffled voice called in a daze. Frank and Nancy looked around, and their eyes settled on the same closet that Joe had emerged from.

"I will not eat," Chet said in a monotone, emerging. "I will not eat."

Frank arched an eyebrow at Joe. "Seven minutes in heaven?"

"You could have gotten me out of there earlier," Joe said defensively. "He must have kept asking his captors for food until they brainwashed him."

Nancy rolled her eyes and turned back to Frank, beaming at him and brushing a stray lock of hair away from his face. "You know, that Rocky Road doesn't sound so bad after all," she said thoughtfully.

"Really, Ms. Drew?" Frank asked mischievously.

"Yes. Rocky Road, some Scrabble, perhaps a fire in the fireplace…" Nancy intertwined her fingers with Frank's. "And some time getting re-acquainted with an old friend."

"In a whole new way," Frank agreed. "As you wish, Princess."


End file.
